


the ASBO 6

by Albion19



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, super powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 23:40:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1323589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Albion19/pseuds/Albion19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wendy, Peter, Felix, Bae, Tiger Lily and Rufio are doing community service when they are caught in a strange storm…Misfits AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the ASBO 6

London is burning, combusting in on itself and all she can do is watch her family running from one room to another, gathering what possessions will fit in the car. Wendy watches them in a daze, standing in the corner of the living room like a ghost as helicopters swoop overhead. Michael flicks through the channels, watching the streets blazing and people running but she does not really see. What does it matter? The city is falling but the utter destruction happening only has a faint impact on her.

“For god sake Wendy don’t just stand there!” her mother yells, usually so composed and gentle but now she is frantic. Mary Darling is not frightened because of the looting and the fires but because any minute her daughter could be taken from her. Wendy shakes her head, staring through the window at their quiet street and knows that she will not move.

“I’m not coming.”

“Of course you’re coming!” George Darling snaps, dragging two suitcases to the front door. “You’re the very reason we’re going!”

“No…” she mutters and backs away until she crams into the corner of the room. Her parents stare at her as if she is mad but they do not know what has just happened, she has not told them. Her heart is crumbling to ash just as the city is and she wonders very fleetingly if the two are connected. A numbing grief clouds her mind but as her brother John starts to pull her along with him she snaps and pushes him away.

“This is all your fault! If I hadn’t taken the blame none of this would have happened!”

“I never asked you to!” he shouts, his eyes reproachful behind his glasses. Her perfect brother, so quiet and smart; no one thinks to question him but she knows better. “Wendy the city is in complete chaos and you know they’ll be after you! We have to get you to safety.”

“Let them come,” she shrugs and leans back against the wall as her family crowd around her and in that moment there is no difference between them and the people who hunt her. They do not care about what she wants, what she has lost.

“You’re coming even if we have to drag you out kicking and screaming,” Mary says with a forced calm and Wendy knows she means it. As her family approach her Wendy experiences such an intense flare of rage at her helplessness that she lashes out before she can stop herself.

“WHY DON’T YOU JUST GO AWAY?!” she screams and turns her back on them and presses her face to the wall. A hush settles around her, only broken by the thrumming whoosh of helicopters and the faint wail of sirens. Even the television has quietened. Feeling peculiar, a tingling that she is now very familiar with, she turns to the room and finds it empty. Her family is gone, not just her parents and brothers but everything. The furniture, the plants and the pictures on the walls are all missing, as if they had never been there. She breathes in the quiet air, watching the dust specs hanging in a beam of sunlight and tries to contain the panic that wants to crawl out of her chest. The shock is so sudden and so unexpected that it blasts through her misery like an artillery mortar in the night and with jerky movements she walks into the hallway and finds it just as deserted as the living room.

“Mum? Dad?”

Nothing. Heartbeat pounding Wendy runs from one room to the other, jumping up the staircase, shouting out her brothers names, begging them to answer her but she is completely alone. The car is gone, even her father’s beloved vegetable patch is gone, now just overgrown grass. Wendy stops, back in the living room and clutches at her hair in desperation, trying with all her might to bring her family back but she remains alone. Sinking to the floor, back to the wall, she brings her knees up to her chest and cries.

She had wanted them to leave her alone, she had wanted that with all her heart but for Wendy making wishes is a very dangerous thing as they have the tendency to come true. Chest heaving and her heart racing painfully she tries to keep herself together as the fires rage outside, sparked by a boy like herself but fed by her pain and grief, and as the misery swells up inside her she feels someone touching the back of her hand and she lifts her tear streaked face.

“Peter?” she breathes in disbelief as the young man smiles at her. He is on his knees, looking fit and healthy, and at the sight of her tears his lip curls into a smirk.

“Are they for me? I’m flattered bird but I hate excessive shows of emotion,” he waves a lazy hand at the window and the fires raging beyond. Wendy continues to stare at him in shock, not touching him.

“You’re alive?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, I just am,” he answers cagily and avoids her gaze and Wendy is deeply unsure. She lifts a hand and hesitantly presses her fingers against his chest. He is solid and as she slides her hand to his throat she feels his warm skin and the pulse of his heart under her fingertips. Finally she settles her fingers over his mouth and he blows air against her skin with a smile.

“It is you!” she cries and throws her arms around his neck. He pulls her close to him and drags his lips along her cheek before pressing his mouth to the underside of her jaw. She fists his hair in her hand tightly as he buries his face against her neck and sighs.

“I can’t imagine  _how_  many ASBO terms we’ve breached,” he jokes quietly but she has no capacity for it anymore. She pulls back and stares hard into his eyes. He has hurt her so completely, so thoroughly and in a way she never thought possible that to look on him causes her a wrenching pain as much as it gives her relief.

“Why are you here?”

“Because there is something I didn’t tell you and I should have,” he whispers softly, head titling and she stiffens, steeling herself for cruelty.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you ever met me.”

 

*

_Six weeks before._

Thunders grumbles faintly in the distance and lightening flickers, bathing the grey concrete in stark electric blue relief. The musky, damp smell of ozone intensifies every second and the light around them subdues until they stand in an eerie green gloaming. A storm is coming and it will be like none before.

“Great,” she sighs as rain spots the ground below. Wendy Darling looks up at the amassing dark clouds as others in matching orange overalls join her. She had been the first in the locker room and the first out, avoiding the awkwardness of introducing herself to the other offenders. Not that she is rude or scared of them but well…the bottom line is she should not be here and even though she is wearing the completely unflattering jumpsuit labelling her as a criminal she is not. Having said that she is curious and she cannot ignore them for the next six weeks so as they line up alongside her for the roll call she briefly scrutinises each as the probation worker calls out their names.

“Felix Armstrong?”

“…Present,” a lanky, thin boy with messy blonde hair drawls and she is surprised to hear an American accent. He leans against the railing, hands in his pockets and, judging by the glassy eyes, stoned out of his mind. All he needs is a surfboard and he’s set. Wendy bites her lip to stop herself smiling in amusement.

“Wendy Darling?”

She lifts a hand and the probation worker, who is Irish and very good looking, smiles briefly before ticking her name off. He is called Killain James Jones and was once in the army. His credentials put her at ease.

“Bae Gold?”

“Here,” a younger boy says and immediately Wendy takes a shine to him. He looks uncomfortable and nervous, standing a space away from Felix. His large brown eyes are wide and puppyish. It seems impossible that such a sweet looking boy could have committed a crime and Wendy considers that maybe he is like her: innocent.

“Lily Hill?”

“My name is Tiger,” a soft, calm voice answers and a girl with a nose ring and long dreads stares heavily at the probation worker. Wendy knows she is some sort of eco warrior, she overheard her talking to Felix about getting into a fight with a fox hunter during a protest demonstration.

“Tiger, right…” Jones sighs and makes a note before looking up again. He narrows his blue eyes.

“Pan?” he repeats the name again but no one answers. Whoever Pan is he is not here. Jones rolls his eyes and Wendy hears him cursing very softly under his breath before continuing the register. There is only one boy left who is busy texting on his phone. He is dark haired and handsome in a rather sharp and dangerous way.

“Rufio Rodriguez?”

“Yep,” he answers sleepily, not looking up from his phone and Wendy feels that he is someone to avoid. He is the only one there that actually looks he should be.

“Right then. Pair up and take some buckets and sponges down to the lake. There are some fly posters that need to come down. Off you go then,” he says and without another word turns back into the community centre. Probably has to trace the whereabouts of the missing Pan…

*

Sheltering below an underpass as the clouds open Wendy, Tiger Lily and Bae soap up poster covered walls and attack them with gusto but whatever they remove only reveals another layer of graffiti.

“Like an onion of delinquency,” Wendy grunts and Bae smiles. He is her age but looks younger and has already confided in a whisper that he is doing community service because he stole and not just from anyone but his own father.

“What did you take?”

“An ornamental dagger,” he explains, pulling a poster down and dropping it into a bin bag. “My father has a pawn shop and it is his prized possession. I – I wanted to run away and I needed the money so I flogged it…”

“But…” Wendy draws out.

“But my dad knows everyone and he just bought it back. He knew if he told the police I’d have to stay to do this. He’s sneaky,” Bae hisses and hacks at the soggy paper. Wendy drops her sponge into the bucket and knuckles her sore back and watches in surprise as the rain outside intensifies into a torrent. Soon the opening to the underpass turns into a waterfall and they all stare at it with impressed expressions until Lily takes a picture of it with her phone. Braving the weather they run out and are drenched within seconds. Half way back to the community centre Wendy realises that she is missing her bracelet and hurries back alone. The sky is an angry purple now, like a bruise, and lightening flickers every few seconds. Just as she reaches the alley hailstones the size of her head start slamming down around her.

“Oh my god,” she gasps, soaking wet and shocked at the ferociousness of the storm. As she turns away from the sight she realises that she is not alone. A boy in an orange jumpsuit is leaning against the wall watching the storm. At first she thinks it is Rufio but as she gets closer she sees she is mistaken. He is tall, with light brown hair and a striking elfish face. He cocks an eyebrow at her in greeting, eyeing her matching overalls and then lifts something into the air.

“Looking for this?” from his fingers her bird charm bracelet dangles.

“Yes, thank you,” she sighs in relief and reaches for it but he draws his hand back with a playful smile.

“Take it.”

“I’m trying,” she huffs, unable to stop herself smiling until she grabs it and tugs but he tighten his fist and suddenly pulls her closer to him and her heart rate spikes. She pulls the bracelet hard and stumbles back and he smirks, leaning off the wall.

“Let me guess…shop lifting?”

“What? No…” she frowns, feeling oddly jittery. There is something dangerous about him, something wild and wicked. She can see it in the dancing gleam of his green eyes. She should leave, she should not be alone with him. He is a young offender after all, who knows what he has done. But as he draws closer, trying to guess her crime as if it is a game, she is stuck to the spot. He is magnetic.

“Got into a fight with another bright young thing? Someone at the WI stole your knitting pattern?”

“Shut up,” she gives him a withering expression and he grins in bemusement. “If I tell you will you shut up?”

“Probably not. What’s your name?”

“Wendy.”

“Wendy…well birdie what’s your crime of choice?”

“…I don’t have one, I’m innocent,” she tells him with her chin lifted and he bursts into laughter.

“Me too! I mean I was caught for urbex but I wasn’t actually doing anything wrong! We’re all innocent here Wendy bird,” he laughs and she rolls her eyes.

“Fine, don’t believe me,” she says, a little offset and touched that he has given her a nickname already.

“Oh I do. I’m just messing with you. Come on, let’s get back before Jones rings the police,” he moves to the entrance, the waterfall of rain blocking his path and looks up with a frown. “This is weird.”

“I know, I think we’ll need a boat to get there…what’s your name?”

“Peter.”

“Peter Pan,” she tastes it on her tongue, liking the sound of it and he gazes at her briefly before turning his attention back to the storm. Suddenly he grabs her hand, making her jump and faces her with a wild grin and matching eyes.

“Race you?”

“I’m not twelve!” she yells, laughing as he pulls her out into the storm and she is once again drenched. They reach the manmade lake that sits at the centre of the housing estate, both wet and exhilarated, and hand in hand they race for the community centre but they never outrace the storm. As hailstones the size of boulders slam into pavements and crack them the excited grin on Wendy’s face falters until she screams in fright as a windscreen of a car is shattered. Alarmed she turns to Peter and if anything the giddy expression on his face is even more intense, as if the havoc that the storm is creating is feeding into his sick delight.

“This is amazing!” he shouts, laughing in joy as massive chunks of ice smash into the lake and lighting strikes the tops of the tower blocks. He stops to watch, his mouth parting in wonder and Wendy turns back.

“Are you mad!? Run for god’s sake!” she yells and to her surprise he does but not to safety. The crazy young man runs towards higher ground, jumping up a flight of steps to get a better view. Wendy battles the need to get herself to safety and her concern for a stranger’s welfare. He is obviously not in his right mind but that is not his fault. Cursing she races after him, wondering if there is a place that they can hide and wait for the storm to pass. She finds him standing on a wall, completely unsupported and her heart jumps into her throat. He turns back to her and his expression is so exhilarated that it truly borders on madness.

“Take my hand,” he demands, offering it to her but she shakes her head and offers her own.

“Take mine and come down from there you crazy idiot!” she shouts over the storm and then jumps as thunder booms so loudly that she involuntarily claps her hands over her ears. The noise makes him jerk and he loses balance and she grabs his hand before they are struck with lightning. Connected together for one instance they both share the same experience: a vast nothingness in which they float but inside their very cells are vibrating with strange power. It lasts for no more than a split second but for Wendy it feels like an eternity and the only thing she is sure of is his hand in hers.

But with a sharp clap of thunder his hand is ripped out of hers as they are blasted apart and Wendy slams back onto the ground. Groaning and aching with pain she lifts her head, trying to make sense of what happened but when she looks up all rational thought is obliterated. Peter is gone.

“No,” she moans and gets to her feet. Trembling uncontrollably she approaches the wall slowly and then races forward, slamming into it and looks down. Peter is lying below and a pool of blood slowly spreads underneath his head.

* * *

 

_tbc…_


End file.
